The Vigilante and the Phantom
by MudOnMyHands
Summary: POTO/Van Helsing Crossover. After completing her mission to stop Edward Hyde, Christine returns to the Vatican City church in Rome to receive her next assignment. Her new target goes by the name of The Phantom and Christine must return to Paris to rid the opera house of this supposed 'ghost'. What she doesn't expect to find is that her target is not a monster, but a man. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this crossover was born from me and my friend's love for both Van Helsing and POTO. We were simply talking about the two one day and I suddenly said: "Dude, imagine a crossover between them" and thus this idea came to see the light. Bear in mind that I am merely having fun with this, writing it for the enjoyment of my friend and I (although I really hope you all like it too!) and that I can be a pretty slow updater… so if you decide to read and tag along for the ride, prepare to have to kick my butt into gear on occasion xD

I guess I should explain a few things before we begin:

While this follows the Van Helsing movie a bit, it is not the exact same and some of the events happen in different ways to different characters (I don't want to completely copy everything after all). The ages have also been changed a little and I imagine the characters to look like their 2004 movie counterparts. Now, onto the characters:

Christine is 20

Erik is 32

Nadir is 30

Meg is 21

Raoul is 25

Madame Giry would hit you with her cane if you asked her how old she is.

Now, I've gone on long enough so… Disclaimer and then on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or Van Helsing but I sure as hell wish I did.

…

" _Van Helsing, you murderer!_ "

Placing her hat firmly back on her head, the dark-clad figure turned away from the scene below. Clouds moved to cover the quarter moon, shrouding the streets of Paris in darkness as she made her escape into the night. Descending down to the back streets below, she retrieved her liver chestnut mare and spurred her to a brisk gallop with only one destination in mind. The echo of the mare's hooves as they struck the damp cobblestone was the only sound in the empty side street.

Silently she cursed herself, she was not supposed to have killed her target but instead bring him back to the Vatican City church back in Rome. She sighed, her breath appearing as a fine mist in the cold night air. Yes, she was going to be receiving an earful for this one.

…

It took nearly a month on horseback to reach the church and needless to say both horse and rider were exhausted. Christine led her horse to the stables, brushed her down and made sure she had plenty of fresh water and oats. "Good girl Sigur," She soothed. "You did well my friend."

Afterward she headed into the church itself, walking down the hall toward one of the confession booths. She entered it and closed the door behind her, clasping her hands together as if in prayer. "Forgive me for I have-"

"Sinned." Came the sharp voice from the other side. "Yes, I know. That is always the case isn't it?"

The panel in the confession booth opened and light flooded in from the other side, causing Christine to turn her head away slightly with a grimace. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust but when they did she could now clearly see the stern, aging woman on the other side. "You broke a church window, you know?" She sounded so irate that Christine couldn't help but give the barest of smirks in amusement.

"I'm sure the good lord will forgive me, Madame. Besides, it was our dear friend mister Hyde that shattered the window." Christine told her, the small smirk of amusement never fading.

"I'm sure," The woman spoke curtly, not finding humour in the situation as the young woman beside her did. "And where, pray tell, is this… _dear friend_ of ours?"

She knew what had happened, Christine knew, the older woman simply wanted to hear it come from her lips. With a sigh, Christine once again turned away from the woman and leaned back against the back of the confession booth. "Mister Hyde is presently… indisposed."

"Your methods of stopping these creatures attract far too much attention, _Van Helsing_ ," The older woman snorted, turning to glare at Christine with a stern, icy expression that never failed to put anyone in their place. "Seriously my dear? There are wanted posters practically all across Europe!"

Christine fought the urge to roll her eyes at the name. "The good people of Europe decided to give me that name, it was not I that came up with it. Besides, Madame Giry, they still think me a man. They have no suspicions that it is really a woman beneath all that dark clothing."

"If you continue on this way I have no doubt that they will soon uncover the truth," Madame Giry warned. She turned away and straightened herself, placing her hands firmly in her lap. "And I would have preferred you kept Hyde alive and brought him back for examination."

"Well, we do not always get what we want in life-" She stopped immediately at the tight-lipped look Madame gave her and scowled like a disobedient child.

"When the order found you as a lost child on our doorstep we knew that the lord had sent you here, that you had a purpose and were meant to do god's work." Madame Giry told her.

"And why couldn't he do it himself?" Christine snapped.

"Do not blaspheme," The older woman growled, pulling a lever that released the secret door in the back of the confession booth. "Now come, we have much to discuss." And with that she grasped a torch and began leading Christine down the winding stone stairs.

"I'm not going to like this am I?" Christine muttered, following Madame Giry down to the order's secret underground headquarters. She had been down here several times before, before the order would send her away on missions.

"Whether you like it or not you have no other choice but to accept." Madame Giry told her, leaving no room for argument. "It is the duty of the order to protect the people of Europe from evil, and it is your duty to serve the order."

"So you keep reminding me." Christine mumbled.

"Cease your mumbling!" Madame Giry reprimanded, hitting her over the head swiftly with her cane. "It is highly un lady-like."

"Nothing I do is very lady-like," Christine growled through clenched teeth, rubbing the tender spot on her head. "And hitting people with canes doesn't seem very becoming either."

Madame waved her hand dismissively. "There is no time for this, I must give you your assignment and send you on your way quickly. This is a highly urgent matter."

"How urgent?" Christine asked, her eyes wandering over the various gadgets and weapons laid out on the table before them.

"The 'people are dying' kind of urgent," Madame stated. "We need you to go back to Paris. No doubt you have heard of the fire at the opera house during your travels? The previous owners have told our intelligence that a monster, a _ghost_ , had been haunting the opera populaire, making demands and causing havoc and killing people when those demands were not met. He was called The Phantom and not even two weeks ago he cut down the chandelier and set fire to the opera house in a rage, killing several people in the process."

"But you do not believe that he is a ghost?" Christine guessed. "You think that he is a mortal that can be stopped?"

"What _ghost_ physically strangles people to death?" The older woman answered flatly. "At first it was thought that after the blaze this mysterious phantom had left, but as of recently anyone who has dared enter the remains of the building has never been seen again. Few people have ever seen him and lived to tell the tale. They claim that he is inhumanly tall and thin, that his skin is like yellowed parchment and his face looks like death itself, with blazing golden eyes and a hole where a nose never grew."

"And you want me to go and stop this monster?" The brunette guessed, running a finger over the barrel of a repeater lying on the table. "Will there be no time for my horse and I to recover? Sigur is exhausted from the trip, it would kill her to try and make it once more."

"Then take Cesar," Madame Giry instructed. "He is a young and fresh horse, has not been worked in well over a week. He will serve you well."

After gathering up supplies and new weaponry, Madame Giry led Christine through a shortcut to the stables. She looked over her shoulder at the young woman, her eyes betraying a hint of her concern. "I advise that you take someone with you."

"Madame," Christine said shortly. "You know that I work alone. Having someone with me will only serve as a hindrance."

"Then be careful my child," The older woman told her, clasping Christine's hands in her own in a rare moment of tenderness. "According to the owners of the opera, this phantom has been terrorising them for years and not once has he been caught. He will undoubtedly be quick and cunning, do not underestimate your target."

"I will not Madame," Christine assured her, fitting a saddle and tack to Cesar as she spoke. She placed her supplies into saddle bags and then mounted the pitch black stallion. Nudging his sides lightly she spurred the horse into a steady walk, and then looked over her shoulder with a small smile that could almost be considered cocky. "Besides, I am always careful."

And with that she jabbed her heels into Cesar's sides and with a cry of 'yah!' the young stallion broke into a gallop.

…

A/N: Yay! Finally, I got the first chapter done. It took me a bloody long while, I get waaaay too distracted. I know this one was short, but it is only the first chapter and I do promise that they will get longer as the story progresses.

I'd love to know what you all think, so reviews are appreciated. Til next time! :D


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I just had to update again! I really want to get this fanfic going, seeing as it's the first one I've written in years and the first one I've ever published. In this chapter we get to meet Erik, exciting right?

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or Van Helsing… I don't even own a hat. Who doesn't own a hat? Apparently me.

…

On the morning that Christine arrived back in Paris, the sun had barely broken the horizon. She and Cesar had ridden swiftly and fiercely, battling against time and trying to make it to Paris as quickly as possible. At the horse's obvious exhaustion, Christine felt terrible and her own exhaustion reminded her that they both desperately needed to rest.

And so she rented out a room at an inn with a stable, deciding that she would eat and rest before pursuing her target. Whatever sleep she had gotten on the trip had been restless and broken, and the thought of a soft, warm bed was too irresistible to pass up. She would rest for the day and head to the opera house that night.

After seeing to it that Cesar was well taken care of, Christine headed to her room and locked the door. She unloaded her bags carelessly onto the floor and collapsed face first onto the bed, not even bothering to rid herself of her shoes or loosen her clothing before surrendering to sleep.

…

Christine woke just as the sun was beginning to set, a pink and orange glow was settling on the clouds and a few stars were already showing. She ate a quick meal from her provisions to help gain back some strength and then went about sorting and readying her weapons. She had decided this time that among other things, she would have a gun loaded with darts that had been laced with a sleeping drug. It would not do well to kill another one of her targets, especially if Madame Giry was becoming irate with her methods.

Gathering her coat, weapons and belongings Christine left her room. She was careful to not put her hat or coat on before leaving, as she did not want anyone suspicious of her appearance. Paris thought Van Helsing was a man, and she wanted it to stay that way.

She went to retrieve Cesar from the stables, noting that the young stallion looked much better after a day's rest although like her he had not yet fully recovered. Luckily they would not be travelling far, and they would not have to ride as fast as they did on the way to Paris.

Climbing up into the saddle, Christine urged Cesar to move and steered him in the direction of the opera house. Keeping to the now dark side streets, Christine donned her coat and hat and nudged Cesar into a steady trot.

It was almost unnerving, how quiet the streets of Paris were after sunset. Hardly a soul could be seen wandering about and almost all lamps had been turned off, no doubt to prevent unwanted attention. These days there was always some kind of monster lurking about after dark, and they didn't always have to be of the supernatural kind.

Soon the opera house came into view, and Christine stopped Cesar a fair distance away to get a good look at what remained of the burnt out building. It looked as though it would have been a grand sight before the chandelier incident but now it was a blackened shell of its former self. The stone and doors were charred, the roof had collapsed in some places and the windows were shattered.

She gently clicked her tongue and urged Cesar forward again, approaching the ruined opera building at a cautious pace. They came to a stop in the alley beside the opera house and Christine slid down from the saddle to tie Cesar's reins to a post before making her way to the front doors. She looked around behind her a few times, making sure that no-one had seen her, before slipping into the darkened building.

Christine had to fight the urge to cough as she shut the door and the action caused ash to stir around her. Waving her hand in front of her face, she headed cautiously and quietly into the theatre and looked around at the sight before her. The place truly was in ruins, with the seats and curtains having been burnt bare and the stage partially collapsed. In the center of the theatre laid the shattered remains of a once grand crystal chandelier, no doubt it had been quite expensive.

Slowly she walked forward toward the stage, looking around as she did so. It was almost too quiet for her liking and she had the nagging feeling that she was being watched. Better she found her target before she herself became one.

She had now reached the orchestra pit, where several abandoned instruments lay burnt out beyond repair. Obviously the flames had spread so quickly that nothing had been worth the risk of saving. A small pang of sympathy went through her at the thought of all those who had lost their lives to the blaze, caused by the rage of a mad man. They'd had no idea what was coming, they had only come out to have a good time and paid for it with their lives.

A brief glimpse of movement to her right caused Christine to startle and she raised her pistols toward the box in which she was certain she had seen _someone_. All was still in the box, yet she did not lower her weapons. She had not been seeing things, she knew that there had definitely been someone or something in that box.

Deciding to investigate she left the theatre and headed for the stairs that led to the second level. Her footsteps echoed louder than she would have liked, but there was no way for her to quiet the sound of her boots on the charred marble.

She headed to the box, careful to keep her wits about her as she did, and investigated but found nothing. Absolutely no sign that anyone had been there. She lowered her pistols slightly, but immediately raised them again at the sound of a lamp falling to the floor. Christine exited the box, body tense and guns at the ready as she kicked the lamp lightly. Something had disturbed it and caused it to fall off the wall.

Suddenly she caught another glimpse of movement at the end of the hall, a very human-looking shadow, and the chase was on. Hoping that it was indeed the phantom and not some thief or foolish child, Christine ran after the figure. They were fast, very fast indeed, as with each corner rounded the figure was always in her sights for barely a moment before they were gone again. Christine considered herself a very fit woman, but even she was having a hard time trying to keep up.

And then she spotted the figure duck into one of the rooms. Panting lightly she jogged up to the room and kicked the door open fully, rapidly sweeping the room with her guns still raised. The room was a dressing room, perhaps the room of the main star or diva, and there appeared to be no-one there. She had swept every inch of the damned room and her search had yielded no results. Deciding that perhaps she had been seeing things, a trick of the ash and shadows, Christine lowered her guns and began to make her way out.

If she hadn't have been quick and observant, she would have missed the mirror sliding open and the lasso that shot out from the darkness. Swiftly she raised her hand and grabbed the end of the lasso, tugging on it sharply and pulling the figure out from the secret passage, making them stumble slightly. Not daring to give them a reprieve she kicked them square in the chest. They went down, winded for a brief moment, and as they attempted to stand once more she trained her pistols on them. This did not deter them and in a flash they were on their feet and once again on the run, her bullets missing them by mere inches as she fired her weapons.

With a growl of frustration she ran after the figure once more. She was now certain by the way this person was skilfully evading her that this was the 'phantom' she had been looking for. At the very least her kick had slowed him down just a little, enough that she was able to keep him in her sights for more than a second.

Their chase led all across the second floor, with her firing off bullets several times at his feet in an attempt to wound him but always missing by a hair. At one point the chase had brought them to the stage, and as luck would have it the mysterious phantom's cape was caught on a broken piece of wood. He growled audibly in frustration, ridding himself of the blasted thing, but that had given Christine just enough time to catch up and attack.

And then the two were locked in combat, throwing kicks and punches this way and that and blocking when they could. It seemed that this phantom, whoever he was, possessed quite a bit of strength and agility and it was difficult for Christine to match him blow for blow. Her body ached and she could tell she was going to have quite a few bruises later.

A harsh punch to her jaw sent her reeling backwards, and she had to lean against one of the props in her attempt to stay standing. Her head was reeling, and she could feel herself swaying, she knew she would not be able to defend from the next attack.

But another stroke of luck hit, and as the phantom stepped forward to deliver another strike his foot went through a weakened board in the stage and became stuck. He cursed under his breath, and Christine took this opportunity to recover from her dizzy spell and deliver another kick to his sternum, which sent him falling backwards.

Grabbing one of her pistols that she had dropped, she placed her boot firmly on his chest and aimed at his head. It seemed he had the good sense to stay still this time, as she would definitely not miss again. He scowled, and opened his mouth as if to speak but she did not give him a chance. One harsh blow to his temple with the butt of her gun knocked him out cold.

…

It had been a struggle to carry him out but once she had tied his hands and placed him on Cesar it had been fairly easy to get him back to the inn. Of course, it had been an even bigger struggle getting him upstairs to her room but once she was there she dumped him into a chair and tied him to it, making sure that the rope was tight enough that he could not struggle free.

Taking this time to catch her breath and turn on a few lamps, Christine found she could now clearly see the phantom. He was not at all what she had been expecting. In the darkness of the burnt out opera theatre he had seemed just as Madame had described, but now that she was seeing him in the light she could almost laugh at how wrong the description had been.

Parchment skin? Corpse features? No Nose? The man before her was the complete opposite of what she had been told. Yes, he was rather tall and almost alarmingly thin, but his skin although pale seemed soft and healthy. Not to mention he did have a nose, and a head of thick black hair. On the right side of his face he wore a white mask, for what reason she did not know, but the uncovered side could very well be considered handsome.

Handsome? Her upper lip raised slightly at the thought. It would not do to dwell on such treacherous thoughts.

Seeing as he was knocked out cold, she ended her appraisal and removed her hat and cloak. Hanging them on the back of the door, she headed into the bathroom and began to wash her face. She winced lightly as she brushed her tender jaw, seeing a dark bruise already beginning to form there. ' _I'm going to make him pay for that_.' She thought with a scowl. Her face twinged at such an expression and she relaxed the muscles with a tired sigh.

Heading back into the main room, Christine sat on the end of the bed and absentmindedly began taking apart and cleaning her pistols. At some point during her activity, her "guest" began to stir and awaken with a light groan.

"Well, well, well, looks like sleeping beauty's finally awake." Christine commented, beginning to reassemble each pistol after thoroughly cleaning them both.

"Where the hell am I? You'll pay dearly for- Wait, you're a _woman_?" He spat, partly shocked but mostly furious.

"Last time I checked, yeah." Christine answered sarcastically. "What? Does it hurt your manly pride to know you have been bested by one of the fairer sex?"

"Irritating wench," He snarled. "I should have hit you harder."

"Your words wound me _monsieur le fantome_." She remarked, her face contorting into a mock pout. Rising from the edge of the bed, she wandered over to the corner of the room where her gun loaded with tranquilisers rested against the wall. She could feel his eyes following her, burning into the back of her skull with the intensity of his gaze. Picking up the tranquiliser gun and making sure it was still loaded and ready to fire, she headed back over to the chair where her captive was still very much tied up.

It surprised her to note that his eyes were not a blazing yellow, but in fact a pleasant emerald green. She did not dwell on this however, and instead raised the gun to aim at his shoulder. "Terribly sorry about this."

And then she pulled the trigger.

…

A/N: Woo! We met Erik!

Reviews are appreciated.


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